


Life was a Fucking Nightmare

by iceprinceloki



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abortion, Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Borderline Personality Disorder, Cutting, Domestic Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Family, Forced Pregnancy, Honesty, Hospitals, Physical Abuse, Please Don't Hate Me, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Secrets, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Abuse, Trauma, University, Unplanned Pregnancy, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24060697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceprinceloki/pseuds/iceprinceloki
Summary: How did I get here? How did I come to live in stories, fandoms and tumblr? I used to live in them until I met him. He dragged me away from all of this, writing, friends, fun. I came back last year, I found my voice and stood up for myself for the last time, I returned to writing. I write to hide the pain and to heal the scars I put on myself. How I fell in love with him I'll never know. I warned women about men like him for years, but here I am, a survivor of domestic abuse. A secret survivor. This is how it all happened.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character





	1. It All Started

My story is complicated and dark, and it would take far too long to tell my entire life story. The story I want to tell is how I started an abusive relationship, and everything that happened to me in the two and a half years. Most readers won't read this story and that's fine, I'm writing for my own sanity not for attention. Now I could keep it simple and brief but that wouldn't be right, I want to tell the whole story.

So you need background information, which I will provide in this article. I am the middle child of three kids. My brother is two years older and has autism and epilepsy, my sister is four years younger. My parents are decent, my dad is my best friend and my mom isn't really someone I talk to much.

My mom is narcissistic and a financial drain on my father, a drama queen of note; she uses us as pawns to prove she has a happy family, through sappy Facebook posts that no one cares about. We've never really gotten along. My dad on the other hand is incredible, he made a lot of sacrifices to take care of us and my mom. He is wicked smart and kind, I aspire to be just like my dad one day.

My brothers issues had my mom out of my life until I was about five or six, because my brother was in the hospital constantly and she was studying at the time. So I spent my days and some nights with my maternal grandparents. My oupa taught me to read and spell, and he was always great fun. My ouma was always cooking something, or baking or playing computer games like minesweep or chinese checkers. You know those old games where you played against a bear and a guy called Jasper, among other characters. My ouma and I had our issues but for the most part we loved each other and we were very close by the time I was twenty.

I started university when I turned twenty and moved in with my paternal grandmother. My nana lost my grandpa when I was a baby so I don't remember much about him. She is fierce, at 85 she still goes to gym once a week, a knitting group and she takes part in her church care group. So I moved in with her and my aunt. It was going well, I started school, made friends with a few girls and within a week was sent out on my first internship.

Now I work in the hospitality industry, no I am not a chef. My first internship was at a large hotel in Johannesburg, South Africa. I was working in food and beverage which basically means I was training to be a waitress, bar tender, barista and finally floor supervisor. I was working in relative peace for about two weeks before he started working in the kitchen.

I shouldn't tell you his name because if you google his name with the word chef and Johannesburg you'll see him immediately so let's call him Dominic. Dominic was a thirty year old indian man from Durban, South Africa who had recently left his job at a game reserve and moved into the city to take on his new position. He is well known in the hospitality world, he had a good reputation as a chef and had in fact designed the kitchen of the game reserve he had left. I have heard his name mentioned a few times by people who didn't know he was my boyfriend.

Moving along before I get too far ahead of myself. He was funny, he and I bonded over a mutual dislike of various colleagues, love of food, certain book series we both read. I liked him very much and I could tell he liked me. I worked in that hotel for ten weeks, maintaining my friendship with him throughout. He thought I was pretty and sweet and kind and he wanted to get closer to me. His words, not mine. I just thought he was a lovely guy, down to earth and fun to be around.

After my internship ended my ouma fell ill and I went to see her often. His mother also fell ill and he went to Durban, taking leave, and stayed with her until she died. My ouma passed away suddenly at the start of July 2017, his mother died two weeks later. We sought solace in each other and that was the real start of the toxic relationship. We started talking more and about personal things we didn't speak to anyone else about; at least I didn't speak to anyone else about these things.

In my next installment I will tell you about our first date, the start of my next internship, a little trip we took, how I lost my virginity through rape, and how I stifled my shattered feelings and continued the relationship.


	2. Chapter 2

So we agreed to meet up for a date. Dominic was coming to the city where I was for one night, to fetch his suit from his flat so he had something for the funeral. We decided to have our date that night. We met up at a casino/hotel/entertainment venue, it was a jack of all trades.

He took me to a really fancy restaurant, I thought it was fancy at the time but I learnt over the course of our relationship that there were much fancier places out there. It was a tapas place and I regret to say I didn't know what half the food was. I hate dinner dates anyway since I'm shy about eating around new people, it's the main reason I turn down dates actually; this irrational anxiety.

This was so much worse because I had never been to a tapas place so I didn't know how it worked, I didn't know what the food was and the guy was plying me with different wines to match the foods. I'm 5'4, I weigh about 66 kilograms, I didn't grow up in a heavy drinking environment; the most I would drink was a single glass of red wine at Sunday lunches. Long story short I was a light weight and I got sozzled quickly.

We ate and drank for about three hours, I had to be home by ten as I was living with my nana and aunt and they were strict with me, even at my age of twenty one. It was eight by the time we finished eating and walked out, I was getting anxious, wanting to go and be home on time, to have a bath and get to bed because I really really needed to sleep. Dominic insisted we go play games in the arcade, which we did, and we sucked but it was a lot of fun especially since I was smashed.

An hour later and I was back in my worried state wanting to go home. He wanted me to blow off my curfew since I was an adult. I was firm and told him I was under their roof and I needed to respect them as my elders. He grudgingly walked me to my car and kissed me. I really never did anything besides kiss anyone at this point so I was really new and shy and awkward.

Dominic pushed me up against my car and made some thing incredibly clear to my right thigh. He begged me to get in the back seat with him and I tried to refuse but he begged and said where's the harm? I was drunk, a virgin, a curious virgin. I'd never even seen porn although I'd read and written my share of illicit fanfictions. I agreed and we got in the backseat in the dimly lit and mostly empty parking lot. 

The first thing he did was kiss me again and stick his hand up my shirt to squeeze my boobs like they were stress balls. It hurt, I kept my mouth shut. While kissing he asked if he could kiss them I agreed thinking it would just be above the bra kisses, he didn't even need to take my shirt off. This man scooped one of the girls out of its snug spot and damn near tried to swallow it. He did that irritating thing of letting it go with an intentional popping sound of his mouth. It was slimy, cold once exposed to air, and uncomfortable to squeeze back into my bra.

Then while I was putting myself back into place his hand undid my jeans button and he tried to put his fingers down my pants while kissing me. My hands were mostly on his sides or chest when we kissed, but in retaliation to his unsolicited quest, I pressed my palm flat to his crotch, thinking it would teach him to ask first. He loved it. Fuck my life.

I'd had enough now, I was annoyed and not enjoying myself. I convinced him to get out because I was going to be late. It was half passed nine and I was drunk, the drive home would take me at least a half hour if I was driving fast. He let me go and I sped off, leaving him behind. His brother was waiting for him in the casino, apparently had been waiting all night for our date to end. Let me clarify that his brother is actually his older cousin, they just call each other brothers because their moms lived in two separate houses on the same property.

I felt conflicting emotions. Nothing we had done had felt good physically. The only thing that felt good was the thrill of being touched for the first time by someone other than myself. It was exciting to think he desired me, I considered myself very plain; I came to learn that I was not so average. It was exciting to think this man might be the first serious boyfriend of my life. The physical stuff was uninteresting in itself, it was the feeling behind it.

I got home and wobbled up the stairs, my aunt whispered a greeting to me from her bedroom, next door to mine and I greeted her back. I went to take a quick bath and then crawled into my bed. I woke up with sore muscles, bad breath and a bruise on my boob. I was not impressed with my condition, and tried as best as I could to pretend I was all fine, nothing weird had happened and it was all innocent and wholesome. My nana did not need to know this man was sucking my tits twelve hours earlier.

He and I exchanged messages, I didn't tell him that I didn't enjoy how it all felt, I just said I had fun. That week his mother was cremated and then buried with her mother and grandmothers ashes. He was devastated and he leaned on me heavily, not wanting his family to know how much he was suffering from the loss of his only parent. 

I started a new internship at the beginning of August, about a week after our date. I was working in a kitchen of a guest house and event venue down the road from my nana's place. I had wanted to work there for a long time and I was thrilled to get the spot, the happiness didn't last long. The chef Jurgen was intelligent, grumpy, stressed, tired of dealing with "idiot immigrants" who couldn't do their jobs properly. He wasn't a nice man, and in fact he threw knives at me once, because I burnt the sugar for these custard filled pastry balls, several times. Sugar is hard to work with, it's volatile, hot and it can go from honey scented to acrid in a heartbeat.

There were four other chefs; the sous chef a gentle giant named Arnold, Rasta an illegal immigrant (usually the source of chef's griping), Gillian the soon to be retired pastry chef (also an illegal immigrant but vastly different to Rasta in that she actually studied through Cambridge and had her A levels where Rasta was learning to read at that time), finally there was Bismark a nineteen year old student from a different school.

Bismark is the key here, he's the turning point in our relationship and not for the reasons you are thinking about. Bismark was dumpy, he had acne, glasses, looked like the kid who got bullied all the time. He was also a ray of sunshine, he had a great sense of humour and he hated Jurgen as much as I did. He was very sensitive and would pick up tension, sadness or basically any negative emotion in an instant and he was driven to cheer you up if he thought you needed it. He was a good kid.

Gillian quit within a week of me starting so I was left in pastry by myself. I had no idea what i was doing, I googled how to do half the shit. I wasn't a chef student after all, I was only doing this internship so I could have an appreciation of the kitchen when I was a manager. I was scrambling at first but I learn fast and I was on top of it for the most part after my first week alone.

I was busy, being in pastry by myself was difficult, I had so much work to do and I would work from seven in the morning until six at night most days. Between creating and decoration the days worth of pastries, cakes, sweets etc and doing the mise en place for the next day I was swamped. I was thriving on the pressure. Only one problem. Dominic. I was so busy I was barely talking to him, sometimes I didn't message him until I was home and had already bathed.

Sure I had moments of peace where I had time to message him, and I did message him usually, but I also took those moments to bitch about Jurgen with the other three remaining chefs. These moments only existed when he was off the property and it was rare, this was the only social interaction I had these days, and I took advantage. Dominic of course knew kitchens were busy and trusted I was busy, when he found out about these moments however he hit the roof, saying I had time to talk to him all day and I didn't bother.

I argued that I couldn't use every free second of my time texting him. He was angry and I was confused. How could he want my attention every second I was free? When was I supposed to breath? I'd seen couples who were so attached to each other they spoke constantly through the day and I assumed this is what he wanted, if other people did it then it couldn't hurt. I started taking chances with my life, messaging him even if I was running out of time. Every time I got caught by Jurgen I was yelled at and threatened with a bad grade.

Dominic didn't care, he said I was lying about the threats to get out of talking to him. He implied I was more interested in the white boy or the two white chefs than I was in him. I was angry now and told him it was nonsense and he was being ridiculous. I didn't have feelings or inclinations towards any of them. Jurgen was an asshole, Arnold was married and Bismark was just a kid. 

I didn't want him to feel like I didn't like him or wanted someone else so I decided I would just maintain a professional relationship as I had been doing with my colleagues. One day Bismark needed a life home and I agreed to drive him, he didn't live far from me so it was no hassle. I dropped him off and drove home. I had a bath and was eating dinner before I messaged Dominic. I didn't mention dropping the kid off at his moms house, I didn't think it was important and I actually forgot all about it.

Until a few weeks later when Dominic was giving me grief about the white kid I was working with. He refused to believe I worked alone in pastry because I was a student, he couldn't believe I was capable of running a kitchen by myself. Bismark had helped me a few times when time was crunching but that was it and I told Dominic when it happened because he wanted to know when they worked with me.

These time crunches only happened because he insisted I text him constantly. I was stuck between texting him as ordered and having to work with Bismark, or not texting him so I can get my work done by myself on time. Either way I'd be screwed because I worked with Bismark, or I was quiet so I must have been doing something I shouldn't have been doing and that I was lying about being busy.

The days Bismark wasn't there to help me with time crunch I'd still have to text while working on five or six dishes. By the time the days goods were finished and out of the doors it was already six o'clock and I would still have to do mise en place for the next day or I'd have an even worse time. I remember staying until ten at night once trying to get it all done.

So fast forward a while, this has been going on for weeks. I had swapped numbers with Bismark because I needed a recipe and he was the only one besides Jurgen who had it. Dominic and I had a huge fight and I was crying in the area behind the kitchen building. When I pulled myself together I went to hot kitchen to wait for Jurgen to come back. It was just me and Bismark and Arnold and Rasta were in and out of the room. The kid could tell I was upset and he made me a coffee and snuck me a creme brulee, then he and I sat and watched Yu-Gi-Oh on his phone.

Dominic and I were fighting a lot, not because I'd actually done anything wrong. Just because he felt insecure and thought I wanted a white boyfriend who was closer to my age. He felt Bismark had feelings for me and that Bismark was flirting despite the fact that Bismark knew Dominic was my boyfriend and I had told him I was happy with Dominic. The fears and worries were really unfounded if I look back now. At the time I tried to alleviate them.

I would tell him when someone spoke to me, the second they spoke to me, when someone came into pastry to get stuff out the fridge and what exactly happened. I would tell him when I was going to work and what time I'd be leaving, if I didn't leave on time he'd say I was socializing and trying to pull one over on him. Trouble was I didn't really have a choice, if I didn't finish my work I had to stay on or I'd have a worse day the next day. 

I fell so far behind in my mise en place that I was disciplined and got a bad grade for the first half of my internship. Bismark tried to help by staying late with me to try and get me back up to date, but this only caused more fights with Dominic and I eventually told the kid to just go home and that I'd be fine. He cottoned on I think and he started sending me home and saying he would finish for me, that way I could leave on time and my work would be ready for me the next day. I appreciated this so much, even if it made Dominic more paranoid.

Dominic still wanted to give us a go and I was still trying to make him realize I wasn't a whore who would just up and leave him. I don't know now why I felt the need to prove him wrong but I did. He asked me to go on a weekend getaway with him. He would come from his home city to where I was living and we would go to the Drakensburg together for a few days. I agreed, he asked multiple times if I had any secrets to share or lies I had told, before he made the booking. I said no each time because I didn't I had no secrets, nothing had happened of any interest of consequence.

Of course once he has made the booking he finds out that Bismark has my number and he finds out about Bismark and I watching Yu-Gi-Oh. Things I hadn't said anything about because who the hell cares, I'd forgotten about them even. It wasn't like I'd sat kissing the guy or sexting him. Sadly I had deleted our chat, which literally had his recipe and me saying thanks, so I couldn't prove that's all there was. 

We argued. I tried to tell him he was overreacting and that I wasn't doing anything wrong. I wasn't lying to him just because I didn't mention something as stupid as having a cup of coffee and watching a TV series while the Chef was gone. I couldn't understand it and still don't to this day three years later. Dominic finally admits that maybe he is being over the top and he will try be better. He decides to go through with the trip anyway, I had my doubts but if he was willing to improve I would support him.

I got a long weekend off by working long hours and extra days. He came to Johannesburg and I went from work to sleep at his flat for the night, and we would then go to the Drakensburg the next day. That night we set up the sleeper couch in the lounge and watched movies. I can't remember what we watched but we watched a few things and talked and cuddled.

Eventually he started kissing me, after a few drinks obviously. And we get to undressing and kissing more. I was cautious but also vibrating with energy and curiosity. Well he didn't do anything more than kissing and undressing me before he tried to break the proverbial seal. I told him no I wasn't ready, he begged and tried to convince me but I refused flat out and instead offered to give him a handjob. I couldn't make him finish, he had to do it himself, he could never come from a blowjob or a handjob.

We went to sleep and were on our way to the Drakensburg. We talked the whole way about his issues (Yes his issues. I didn't and do not consider them my problems at all.) and he tried to make sense of it all. He still thought that something was happening that I wasn't telling him but he said it was fine if I was because he understands that I have needs. His only stipulation was that he didn't want to know who or what was done. I was disgusted and we argued about it some more but ultimately he came to the conclusion that he loves me and he wants to make us work. I agree to trying to make it work, again.

By the time we arrive at the lodge we were laughing and joking and there was no sign of the fighting from the last five weeks of my internship. I was grateful and I clung to the hope that this would last.

He got drunk the first night there and I was buzzed. I was a virgin at the time I had never had a sexual partner, all I had was the experiences I have already described. I was reserved and shy and not very confident in myself and I was reluctant to do anything sexual, but he said simply that whether I had sex then or at a later time it would hurt either way and I may as well just get it over with. I didn't want to be a prude or seem like I thought I was too good for him or whatever.

So I let him do what he wanted. He refused to wear a condom however and being larger than me I wasn't physically able to stop him from having unsafe sex. Afterwards he went to sleep, drunk as I said, and I lay awake and cried and felt like crap. I was upset that it had been so awful, like it didn't mean anything to him. I had put a lot of feelings into what my first time would be like, it was supposed to be safe, loving, positive...I want to cry just thinking about it.

The next day I tried to play it off like it was okay he hadn't used the condom because I wanted him to enjoy it too. I was on the pill and I took it religiously so I didn't think I'd get pregnant. The only issue would be std's. I lied through my teeth that it was fine with me and he bought it. I don't like to show weakness or vulnerability, it makes it too easy to be ripped apart or worse, judged. I pretended I didn't just get raped.

This was my first mistake and it set the tone for the rest of the relationship, especially since he knew what he had done, or he wouldn't have asked me if it was okay. I moved in with him a few months later because I reasoned it would be easier to make him happy if he can see me most of the time. Also being away from my family gave me more room to mourn the loss of my ouma without worrying that they would see my pain.

My last five weeks of internship were full of fierce fighting, a lot of heartache, a lot of anger. I became withdrawn and hurt and I lashed out at Bismark most of all because in my mind it was all because Dominic thought this kid was special. I feel regret for that now, I regret how I treated everyone once I was with Dominic. 

I became a cold, dead thing, I never spoke to my friends or family, he was all that existed in my universe. I hate what I was.

In the next installment I'll tell you about what happened just before I moved in with him as well as, what happened for the first three months after I had moved in with him.


End file.
